ind--where is that poor mind of hers? She really
does not know, but it is no longer under her control.

"Ah! Captain," I said to myself, "what joys are hidden beneath these
alarms, for she loves you. Do you remember that kiss which she let you
snatch coming out of church that evening when the Abbe What's-his-name
preached so well, and those hand-squeezings and those softened glances,
and--happy Captain, floods of love will inundate you; she is awaiting
you!"

Here I gnawed my moustache, I tore my gloves off and then put them
on again, I walked up and down the little drawing-room, I shifted the
clock, which stood on the mantel-shelf; I could not keep still. I had
already experienced such sensations on the morning of the assault on the
Malakoff. Suddenly the General, who was still going on with his eternal
game at ecarte with the prefect, turned round.

"What a noise you are making, Georges!" said he. "Cards, if you please,
Prefect."

"But, General, the fact is that I feel, I will not conceal from you, a
certain degree of emotion and--"

"The king-one-and four trumps. My dear friend, you are not in luck,"
said he to the prefect, and pulling up with an effort the white
waistcoat covering his stomach, he slipped some louis which were on the
table L931 into his fob; then bethinking himself, he added: "In fact, my
poor fellow, you think yourself bound to keep us company. It is late and
we have three leagues to cover from here to B. Every one has left, too."

At last he departed. I can still see his thick neck, the back of which
formed a roll of fat over his ribbon of the Legion of Honor. I heard him
get into his carriage; he was still laughing at intervals. I could have
thrashed him.

"At last!" I said to myself; "at last!" I mechanically glanced at myself
in the glass. I was crimson, and my boots, I am ashamed to say, were
horribly uncomfortable. I was furious that such a grotesque detail as
tight boots should at such a moment have power to attract my attention;
but I promised to be sincere, and I am telling you the whole truth.

Just then the clock struck one, and my mother-in-law made her
appearance. Her eyes were red, and her ungloved hand was crumpling up a
handkerchief visibly moistened.

At the sight of her my first movement was one of impatience. I said to
myself, "I am in for a quarter of an hour of it at least."

Indeed, Madame de C. sank down on a couch, took my hand, and burst into
tears. Amid her sobs